Sterling probably thought I did not mean what I said because I did not take him home with me. That last night in the Shelter must be a long one for him. It is a busy time for me because I do not have any equipment or preparation for a cat to join me in my widowed household. A knowledgeable cat owner friend helps me make a list and purchase the items she insists I need.
Early the next morning at the Shelter Sterling goes in the carrier and I wobble my way to the car. “I did not dream you would be so heavy,” I inform Sterling. He doesn’t hear me because he is meowing so loudly. Surely he will stop when the car starts. But he does not. He yells louder, if that is possible. I try singing. Bad idea. Maybe try the music I have on CD? It doesn’t help. For sure he has a strong voice, too loud to hear my soft one. How many more miles until we get home? Steering with my left hand I reach through the bars in his carrier with the same finger he had sniffed in the Shelter. He touches his nose to the finger again and is perfectly still until we reach his new home.
What “touching” story do you have?